Heroes of Tomorrow
by Del Rion
Summary: The road from hero to superhero isn't easier or less bumpy than the one from citizen to becoming a hero in the first place. With the will of the many and injustice to fight, there are those who will stand up and do what others cannot ...
1. Story Info

**Story Info**

**Title:** Heroes of Tomorrow

**Author:** Del Rion

**Fandom:** Heroes

**Era:** Post season 4

**Genre:** Action, drama

**Rating:** M / FRM

**Characters:** Claire Bennet, Noah Bennet, Edgar, Ando Masahashi, Hiro Nakamura, Peter Petrelli, Micah Sanders, Mohinder Suresh, Sylar, Molly Walker (+ various other Heroes characters)

**Summary:** The road from hero to superhero isn't easier or less bumpy than the one from citizen to becoming a hero in the first place. With the will of the many and injustice to fight, there are those who will stand up and do what others cannot – whether it means saving the world, or getting burned while trying.  
>Work in progress.<p>

**Pairing:** Peter/Sylar

**Warnings:** Violence, slash (m/m).

**Beta:** Mythra

**Disclaimer:** The show, its characters, its places, and everything else, belong to Tim Kring and the other respective creators and owners of 'Heroes' and 'Heroes' comics. I have made no profit by writing this story, and make no claim over the show/comics.

**Feedback:** The good, the bad, the ugly – as long as it's fair, keep it coming.

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><p><strong>About <em>Heroes of Tomorrow<em>:** A project I've been planning for a bit: the main idea is to throw some of our heroes back together and have them save the world, bit by bit (something the cancellation of the show deprived us of).

The chapters/parts are linked together, but it remains to be seen how tightly/loosely they fit together. Some of them might be written for challenges, others spawned from random ideas.

This is my first multi-chapter work in Heroes fandom, and I haven't planned it too far ahead, so anything can happen (however, Peter/Sylar lovers: there will be something for you in here).

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><p><strong>Story and its status:<strong> Below you see the writing process of the story. If there is no text after the title after the chapter's name, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.

**-1- Siren Call**  
><strong>-2- Firemen and Super-moms<strong>  
><strong>-3- Houseguest (Mis)understanding<strong>  
><strong>-4- Good Times<strong>  
><strong>-5- The R-Word<strong>  
><strong>-6- Discrimination<strong>


	2. 1 Siren Call

Written for **Heroes_Contest**'s One-shot Challenge 28 (Sigmund Freud).

**Author's notes:** First part in a multi-part story "Heroes of Tomorrow" that I've been planning for a bit. We'll see how long it becomes, and how connected/unconnected the chapters are, but this is a chance to start it, so why not?

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><p><strong>-1-<br>Siren Call**

* * *

><p>The silhouette of Mohinder Suresh's body faded as the lights of the lecture hall were turned on again.<p>

"For our next lecture, please review the chapters we went over today, and I expect those essays to be on my desk by Tuesday," Mohinder told the class that seemed almost more interested in packing their things than listening to their teacher's demands concerning homework assignments.

Sylar smiled, leaning against the wall near the door. He waited there as students filed out, some of them stepping forward to talk to Mohinder, and after even the most persistent one of them had exited the door, Sylar pushed away from the wall and walked down.

Mohinder was busy putting his notes in order and didn't even notice someone was there – or he had noticed, but thought it would be another student who wanted to have an extra word with him.

"You look like Sigmund Freud out there, only with more hair and tan," Sylar commented.

Mohinder looked up sharply, shoulders suddenly tense. He tried to force himself to relax, but didn't seem to be able to do it quite as effectively as he would have wished. "Well, I would assume that if I was anything like Sigmund Freud, my lessons would be drawing more interested young minds."

Sylar chuckled. "I guess no one understands the great minds during their own lifetime."

Mohinder didn't reply. Instead he kept staring at Sylar, as if expecting him to say or do something. When he didn't, Mohinder had to come up with something instead: "Where's Peter?"

Sylar raised an eyebrow at him. "Contrary to popular belief, we're not joined at the hip." Mohinder kept staring at him, though, refusing to be the one to speak up next, so Sylar just shrugged. "He's off with Hiro, doing… something. It happened a bit too quickly for me to understand, but it sounded urgent."

"And you're here, why?" Mohinder asked. "Make it fast. I don't have much time before my next class comes in."

"I'm here to present you with a chance to participate."

"Participate in what?"

"Whatever needs to be participated in," Sylar shrugged, sitting down on Mohinder's desk which seemed to annoy the man somewhat. "We're revisiting our friends, gauging their interest in participating in acts of common good. In other words, to play hero."

Mohinder gave him a hard look. "I'm done with that."

"Many people feel like that at first, but when the day comes that you're the _only_ one who can make a difference, can you really walk away from it?" Sylar mused.

Knowing that Mohinder was unwilling at best to join any kind of superhero antics, Sylar knew better than to press the matter. He had made his point, placed the small seed of thought in Mohinder's mind, and hopefully it would start to grow into something greater…

"I need to go," Sylar said, standing up. Mohinder looked a bit stricken that he was being let go so easily. Sylar turned and walked back up towards the door.

"I'm not going along with this!" Mohinder called after him. "Not again. I'm done with that life."

Sylar just smiled to himself, not bothering to tell Mohinder that once a time came that he could play a hero in a way no one else could… when he could make an actual difference… he would grasp it. He was too good of a person not to.

Once out in the yard of the university, he sought out a secluded spot, made sure no one was looking, then shot into the air.

* * *

><p>After India, New York City was almost quiet. Flying undetected was a bit harder, but Sylar had grown pretty good at that and managed to get to Peter's apartment without being caught by anyone who would actually believe they saw a flying man; even after Claire's stunt on TV, the world was still somewhat in denial.<p>

He had gotten a little supper started when Peter and Hiro appeared in the living room, then Hiro bowed and disappeared right after.

Peter seemed a bit dazed and sat heavily on the nearest chair.

"How was your trip?" Sylar asked pleasantly from the kitchen.

"Fine," Peter replied, "I guess." He seemed a bit confused. "I think Hiro might be moving a bit fast, but Micah is really excited we're in on this…" He sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes, then after a while he sat up and glanced at a piece of paper nailed to the wall; Hiro had put it there before he and Peter first left, and unlike what he had told Mohinder, Sylar had heard enough of Hiro and Peter talking to know what was going on. "I need to go and see Mohinder. I promised I would handle him, but I don't think he's going to jump for joy. He's too important not to ask, though…" Peter mused.

"Don't worry about it," Sylar said brightly. "I already asked him."

"What?" Peter jumped a bit, then frowned. "When?"

Sylar glanced at the clock. "Some ten hours ago."

Peter was still frowning, but leaned back against the chair again. "Well, that's… nice."

"I thought I could help, and knew that of all the people on that list of yours, he's the one you're going to leave for last because he's most likely to say no."

"So what did he say?"

"Well, he took it pretty badly, but I think I got through to him," Sylar smiled. "A hero is always a hero."

Peter chuckled. "I'm not sure if that's enough with him… Not after he hears that Hiro wants us to wear uniforms."

It was not the kind of thing Sylar wanted to think about. "I'm not going to run around wearing spandex," he informed the other man.

"I'm sure he wasn't thinking of spandex, but I have to admit, hiding our identities might be a good idea," Peter mused, then sniffed. "Is that food I smell?"

"Yes," Sylar told him and walked over to the kitchen to get them some. Even heroes needed some kind of normalcy in their lives, be it supper or breakfast. Besides, with Hiro moving the pieces, it wouldn't take long before they had their hands full saving the world, one small good deed at a time.

_to be continued…_


	3. 2 Firemen and Supermoms

Written for **Heroes_Contest**'s Drabble Challenge 28 (Fire).

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><p><strong>-2-<br>Firemen and Super-moms**

* * *

><p>His father had been a fireman. A real hero, even without his power, although it was his ability that made D.L. Hawkins special.<p>

It must have been ironic that his mother died in a fire.

Micah didn't think of them much, and then again, he thought about them a lot. He wanted to remember them, the bad and the good times, because they had both taught him much. About being a hero, and that even when you did something wrong, you could still make amends. To make things right.

Now as Micah watched cars exploding in balls of light, the few remaining people running for cover, he wondered if any fireman would be able to contain this – or a super-mom. The guy walking down the street was shooting rings of fire from his body, like his very skin was emanating extreme heat. Micah had told everyone to keep their distance until they got back up.

"No one mentioned the possibility of a barbeque," a voice commented from behind him, and he turned to look just in time to see Peter Petrelli land on the rooftop. Sylar was already standing there, observing the scene below.

"We need to contain him before something worse happens," Micah said simply.

"Did you ask Tracy for help?" Peter asked.

Yes, Tracy Strauss' ability to control water would have been ideal to handle the situation, but Micah's aunt wasn't in a mood to help tonight. He had called her, of course, but since she hadn't shown up by now, he wasn't going to wait.

"I don't think that is a funny power at all," West quipped as he floated down from the sky. He had been checking the surroundings, and probably saving a few civilians from the street. "I mean, as amusing as it must be to be a human lighter, I would eventually get bothered by walking around naked. Even if no one's sticking around to look at you twice."

Sylar gave West a look, and Micah decided he might as well introduce them, in case they had never met. "This is West Rosen. Have you met?"

"We have," Peter said, nodding at West. He looked down at their target after that, who was currently in the process of burning even brighter, probably on purpose, making the windows of buildings on each side explode. "We need to stop him, right now," Peter decided.

"Ideas as to how we do that?" Micah asked.

"I don't think a fire extinguisher will do it," West added.

Sylar was observing the street, then pointed. "He's nearing a fire hydrant. That should be enough to put him down long enough for us to get to him."

"And when he recovers?" West asked. "I'm not going to carry him anywhere, before anyone asks. It's bad enough he's naked. He's not my kind of hot."

"How do you know him, exactly?" Sylar asked Peter.

"He used to date Claire," Peter shrugged.

"Figures…" Sylar muttered, then stepped to the edge of the roof and jumped down. Well, more like he glided down, landing gracefully, and Peter followed him after a moment.

"So that was Sylar, huh?" West mused as he hovered in the air beside Micah, watching the two men proceed on the ground. "Not exactly the boogeyman Molly talks about."

"People change," Micah told him simply.

Like his mother had changed, so many times. Only, the split personality issue made it hard for her not to act differently from time to time…

Peter and Sylar were getting closer to the man, who suddenly spotted them and shot a wall of flames at them. Peter dodged behind smoking remains of a car, whereas Sylar just pushed through, protecting himself from the flames somehow, then seemed to invisibly shove the other man to the side. A second later the fire hydrant was wrenched off the ground, with similar invisible force, and water sprayed everywhere.

The burning man shouted in apparent discomfort, trying to cover himself, but eventually he just lay there, smoking a bit, and Micah felt just a bit sorry for him. He knew they needed to get him into some place secure, though, before someone else did it for them.

If the man was unable to control his ability, they would help him with that.

If he was unwilling to control it… well, then they would have to deal with that too.

The world was dangerous enough for them as it was. Specials on a rampage wasn't going to promote their cause.

_to be continued…_


	4. 3 Houseguest Misunderstanding

**-3-  
>Houseguest (Mis)understanding<strong>

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><p>Peter and Hesam had come to the Seminar and Conference Center to check on an old man who had started to feel unwell during his meeting. He would be fine with a little rest and fluids, though, and could go to his doctor for a checkup on his own.<p>

While on his way out, Peter spotted a familiar face. At first he couldn't quite believe it, but as he stepped closer to the man, he had to smile a bit. "Mohinder," he greeted softly.

The Indian turned around and gave him a slight smile. "Hello, Peter." It was like old times, almost. "On duty, I see," Mohinder said next, nodding at Peter's uniform.

"Yeah," Peter smiled.

He liked the EMT uniform since it felt almost like his own secret superhero costume; when he was wearing it, people knew he was out there to do good.

"What brings you here?" Peter asked Mohinder in return. He hadn't thought the man would show up after Sylar went all the way to India to convince him to join their little team of super-heroes. And besides, if Mohinder wanted to join up, he wouldn't have been in a place like this, but would have contacted one of them instead.

"I'm here with Mira, actually," Mohinder said, guessing what he was thinking. "She's attending the seminar here, and I came to join her for the trip." He said it firmly, as if to signal to Peter that that was all he was here for.

"That's nice," Peter replied. "Maybe you and Mira could come over and we could eat and talk. Of course, that is, if she wants to," he added. She hadn't really approved of Mohinder's research in the past, and maybe meeting some of his friends from that world wasn't her idea of fun.

"Maybe," Mohinder mused, "if she thinks she would like that." He didn't sound all that confident about it either. "Sylar still staying with you?" Mohinder inquired after a bit.

"Yes," Peter said easily enough. For some reason people who knew about Sylar's past – and especially those who knew about Peter's past with him – felt like it was the question to ask every time they saw Peter. That was why he didn't even bother to wonder about it anymore.

"When you see him, tell him not to visit me again," Mohinder told him instead of telling him how immoral it was to keep Sylar around.

Peter frowned. "He came to see you after that one time?"

Mohinder shook his head. "No, but once was quite enough."

Peter guessed that was a fair request, but it still irritated him at times. "He has changed, you know. He's one of the good guys now."

"You think so?" Mohinder asked him. "Because I've been wondering how you of all people could want him around, especially in your own home. The man killed your brother."

Peter's jaw tensed. Reminding him of Nathan's death was a dirty trick, but Mohinder was not the first to use it – nor would he be the last. "I was with him for three years," he said simply. "I had a lot of time to think about it then, and I've… had my revenge. Sort of."

The other man was looking at him steadily, his dark eyes doubtful. "I don't think he can change, and even if he does, can it repay his past deeds? The people he killed? He's not a wanted fugitive for nothing."

"Now you sound like someone who has a grudge against him," Peter noted. "Are you incapable of giving him a second chance because of that? Because one of the people he killed was your father?"

It was Mohinder's time to square his jaw as ugly memories whirled in his head. "It doesn't make matters any better," he finally decided.

Peter nodded, then shrugged. "Well, I know what kind of man he wants to be now."

Mohinder scoffed softly. "I'm beginning to wonder if your judgment isn't clouded somehow…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter asked him rather sharply, but before either of them could go on three people suddenly materialized from out of thin air: Hiro stood there with Ando and Sylar.

"Peter Petrelli," Hiro said excitedly and bowed at him in his usual manner. "We have a mission!" Then his eyes found Mohinder, and he smiled even wider, bowing again. "Doctor Suresh!" he said, "you should come too!"

"I'm working right now," Peter pointed out to the smaller man. "I can't come. If you need me so desperately, you can wait a few hours until my shift ends, and then take us back in time to take care of whatever the problem is."

Hiro frowned, looking displeased. "No, I cannot do that! We should not go back in time if we don't have to! We could step on butterflies." Ando nodded eagerly beside him; apparently he had no desire to step on butterflies either.

"Perhaps Mohinder should come," Sylar noted, almost teasingly.

"Yeah," Peter agreed, clapping Mohinder's shoulder. "Go with them, have some fun."

"Absolutely not," the Indian said at once. "I said no to your offer once, and it still stands."

Hiro looked most disappointed. "But we are trying to save the world!" For him, that was reason enough for everyone to join his crusade.

Mohinder didn't get the chance to reply to that, though, before Hesam appeared beside them as well, giving Peter a slightly confused look. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," Peter said quickly. "Just met up with some friends, got to talking."

Hiro whirled at Hesam, bowed quickly, then launched into a plea of his own: "We need Peter Petrelli to come and save the wor–"

Peter clapped his hand over his mouth and gave a nervous laugh. "There's a bit of a crisis, but it's nothing to worry about," he told his partner.

Hesam was giving them all a rather odd look. "Well, if it's important, I can partner up with Stevens: I just heard on the radio that his partner injured his hand earlier today, and I could join him if you are needed elsewhere."

"That would be nice," Sylar said politely.

Hesam glanced at him, then frowned slightly, as if trying to figure something out. "Have we met before?" he asked Sylar then.

"Oh, maybe you've seen him in passing," Peter hurried to say. "He's kind of… staying at my place."

"It's nice, his home, although he's never really there," Sylar nodded.

"Well, that's… good," Hesam said slowly, giving both Sylar and Peter some strange looks now.

Peter felt that something was happening here that he didn't want to happen. "Oh, it's not like that!" he laughed, but it was a rather high-pitched sound.

"Like what?" Sylar asked him.

Peter shook his head at him sharply, to shut him up. Sylar was probably playing dumb on purpose, anyway.

"Well, it was nice meeting you," Hesam said rather quickly and left the scene, not even asking if Peter was coming with him or not.

Peter groaned. "He totally thinks we're together now," he snapped at Sylar.

"Oh?" Sylar looked surprised. "What's wrong with that? We do live together, after all."

Peter just looked at him for a bit, wondering if it was just an act. "Together like _that_," he finally said, putting the necessary weight on the last word.

"_Oh!_" Sylar said again, this time in a shocked tone. "Well, that's too bad," he decided a second later, rather flatly.

"Why did you have to keep on talking about staying at my place?" Peter asked him.

"I didn't know it was a secret. It's not like he cares."

"Well, I care! And now he thinks…" He glanced at Hiro, who was still looking jumpy and expectant, probably waiting for Peter to say he was ready to go, then at Ando, who looked rather confused by everything that was going on, and finally he looked at Mohinder, who was frowning again.

Mohinder met his gaze. "Can we talk?" he asked Peter in a low tone, then glanced at everyone else. "Alone, please."

"Oh!" Hiro said, managing to make it very different from Sylar's comment. "We shall leave you alone for a moment," he promised, then looked around. "_Aisukurīmu_!" he said in Japanese and dashed over to the direction of a cafeteria. Ando and Sylar followed him, although Sylar didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to leave them.

Mohinder watched them go, then leaned towards Peter a bit, as if to make their conversation even more private. "I'm beginning to think that your involvement with Sylar is clouding your judgment."

"We're not 'involved'," Peter told him flatly. "He just happens to live in my place because, as you pointed out before, he's a wanted fugitive."

Mohinder shook his head. "He doesn't need your protection, Peter! Hundreds of other fugitives get by just fine without your help. Send him off to Mexico if you have to, but don't put yourself and everyone else at risk just because you can't see him for what he really is."

"For a man who didn't want to get involved in any of this, you seem awfully concerned about us," Peter told him, an edge to his voice that he couldn't really keep away.

Mohinder took a step back, as if to draw an invisible line between them. "You're my friend, and a good man."

"Then trust me to do the right thing," Peter pleaded, then watched as Mohinder walked away. Clearly the man has said his peace.

Sylar joined him a moment later, sucking on a Popsicle he must have just bought.

"You listened in, didn't you?" Peter asked him flatly.

"Isn't that rude, to listen in on people's private conversations?" Sylar asked him back.

"Yes, but I know it doesn't stop you," Peter pointed out.

"No, it doesn't."

Looking at the other man, Peter tried to get the situation back under control. "We'll have to talk about this, soon."

"Is this the point in our lives where you threaten to throw me out, but never get around to actually doing it because you simply like having me around too much, regardless of all the issues it creates in your perfectly managed life?" Sylar mused.

Peter frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Sylar shrugged, licking his Popsicle some more. "I watch a lot of TV during the day. Romantic comedies."

Peter really didn't want to know, to be honest.

"What is there to talk about?" Sylar asked after a bit, surprising him.

"What do you think?" Peter shot back, then turned to walk towards the doors to get out into some fresh air.

Sylar grabbed him before he could get very far, though. "What's the big deal?" he demanded to know, dark brow furrowed, eyes staring intently at Peter's.

Feeling cornered, Peter pulled himself free and strode out to the street. Once again, he barely got down the steps before Sylar was there, stopping him. The Popsicle had miraculously disappeared somewhere.

"I don't want to talk about it," Peter told the other man, then noticed that their ambulance was still parked down the street and Hesam was standing beside it. Apparently he was waiting for Peter after all; he looked up, spotted them, took a step and then stopped. Peter was ready to call out to him that he was ready to go when Sylar waved at his partner, and it was like something from some old, too-sweet goody-two-shoes drama where every character was too comical to be real.

"Stop it!" Peter told him "You're only making it worse."

"Then why don't we show him how it really is?" Sylar asked him. And before Peter could even comprehend what he meant by that, Sylar framed his face with his hands and leaned down to kiss him, right there in the middle of the street. It lasted for a good five seconds, and when Sylar finally pulled back, his lips hovered only inches from Peter's, his hands still on his face. "This is where we would ask Hiro to go back and do something ridiculous to stop us from doing this."

Peter knew he should agree, but he felt frozen to the spot, the taste of Sylar's Popsicle lingering on his lips. He wasn't sure if he wanted to do that, although it would have been far less complicated. Finally, when he managed to regain his voice, he looked up at Sylar – which wasn't very far since the man was still right there, their noses almost touching. "I didn't do anything," Peter informed him. "It's all on you."

Sylar actually smiled at that. "You know this is our life, right? No one else's. We can keep playing by everyone else's rules and wishes, but I spent three years with you in my head, and I know what both of us are made of."

Peter wasn't sure if that was a very romantic thing to say, or if it even made sense to him right now… He could hear a car starting near them and when he looked, the ambulance was pulling out into traffic.

So much for explaining it to Hesam.

Next Peter glanced towards the building he had just exited, and on the steps were Hiro and Ando, who both seemed a bit puzzled, and behind them was Mohinder who shook his head before returning indoors. Peter guessed it would be best if they didn't talk for a while.

"If we're going somewhere," Peter called out to Hiro, "I need to change first."

The round face broke into a wide smile and he strode down the steps, leaving Ando to follow him. "_Hai_, Peter Petrelli! Then we shall go and save the day."

Peter guessed that was the best he could do today, since he wasn't going back to work to finish his shift after all.

_to be continued…_


	5. 4 Good Times

Written for **Heroes_Contest**'s One-shot Challenge 29 (Collateral Damage).

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><p><strong>-4-<br>Good Times**

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><p>Being a hero was never easy.<p>

Perhaps that was the point, because otherwise everyone would try to play one, and what kind of world would that be? Well, it might have been a better one in the end, but the chances were slight that that would be the case. After all, every superhero had at least half a dozen super villains to go up against…

Claire used to have such a rosy illusion about being a hero, and doing the right thing. And yet, it always somehow ended up with the routine speech about differences.

'One of them, one of us.'

'A hero, a villain.'

'A special.'

For now, she hadn't encountered a single major word she could use to face off against 'special' but she was sure it would come. People always needed a label for things, positive or negative.

She was also pretty certain people would say it to her face once they came up with it.

After jumping off a Ferris wheel in New York City's Central Park, her life had been quite hectic. As she thought back to that moment, she wasn't entirely certain why she had done it, or what had been the main goal of the act. To give herself a normal life, and all the other specials… it seemed like a faraway idea now.

Claire's own life certainly hadn't changed for the better; she was constantly in the eye of the media, forced to listen to slander and preaching about how she was an abomination not worthy of God's Earth – or Heaven. That was what she had to endure, instead of a normal, quiet life without the terror of someone finding out that she could heal virtually any injury inflicted upon her.

A few of the specials had actually tried to kill her, so on top of worrying about the crowds every time she spoke to the public about the true nature of specials, she also had to watch out for those of her own 'kind'.

Noah was not pleased about any of this, but he kept hanging around, even though Claire kept telling him he didn't need to do it anymore. "I made a choice, and I'm going to go through with it," she kept saying.

Apparently being Noah Bennet's daughter made her argument invalid.

Then there were days, like the one in a small city in the state of Kansas, where the malcontent of the crowd really reached a new peak. Claire barely opened her mouth before someone was tossing objects towards the podium, the people hosting the event were dodging away. Claire tried to decide whether she should leave altogether, or stand there and take it, waiting for the crowd to get the message that she could take all they had to offer, and more. She meant them no harm, and just wanted to say her piece. It was too much to ask, though.

"Claire!" Noah shouted at her from the sidelines. If he had a gun, he surely would have used it on someone, but there were too many guards standing by when they arrived and he didn't have a permit for it anymore. No Company to back him up…

She looked at her father, sighing, then felt a bottle smash at her feet, glass cutting skin. Gazing back at the crowd, whom the security couldn't really control, she could see the situation was going to get very complicated very soon. While Claire wasn't worried about what they would do once they got to her – often people didn't think that far ahead, thinking someone would stop them long before – she was a bit concerned for the people trying to protect her.

Claire was just about to call out and try to reason with everyone one more time when a hand rose in the crowd, a gun in it. Either someone had a weapon by lucky chance, or they had come prepared.

People started to scream and push in different directions.

Claire steadied herself, hoping the shooter would hit her and not anyone else.

"Claire!" Noah called out again and pushed his way up to the stage, trying to drag her back to safety. Claire stood her ground, though, fighting him, knowing that if she disappeared, the person with the gun might actually kill innocent people in frustration, or out of fear of being seen and caught.

"Dad, let me go," Claire demanded. "I can take it."

Noah's face was adamant and desperate, and a bit perturbed. "Just because you _can_ do something doesn't mean you _should_ do it," he exclaimed.

Before any such thing could happen, though, a shape dropped from the sky. Claire jumped back in surprise. "Peter!" she exclaimed as her uncle looked at her over his shoulder, then gazed back at the crowd.

Apparently the presence of a flying man was too much for the people, because the gun shifted, aimed, and a shot rang out. Claire shouted, afraid that it might hit Peter, who had placed himself before her, but even though he flinched, it didn't seem Peter was hurt.

From above them, another shape soared down. Claire looked up, telling herself it wasn't a surprise that she saw Sylar. The man landed before Peter, one hand raised, and something small floated through the air. Claire realized it was the bullet from the gun.

Sylar palmed the bullet and looked at Peter. "I told you to wait."

Peter bristled. "I said we were in a hurry!"

"And you're not bullet proof," Sylar said, turning to look at him all the way.

Peter opened his mouth, but didn't find a proper reply.

Another shot was fired, making the people scream and shout. Sylar jumped a bit, then frowned, an unhappy look on his face. Both he and Peter looked down, and there was a dark stain appearing on Sylar's shirt.

With an irritated scowl, Sylar turned, the first bullet still in his grip. He looked towards the person with the gun, a man in his thirties, standing there as the crowd kept pushing away from him. "Will you stop firing, or shall I send them right back at you?" Sylar asked him.

"Freak!" was the reply, but the shooter probably didn't want to chance it.

"I think it's time we leave the stage," Noah suggested once again.

Peter nodded, and Sylar followed them, digging the second bullet from his chest as he did.

"Why do you have to keep doing this?" Peter demanded once they were behind the stage and out of the crowd's sight.

"You should know why," Claire fired back. "One day, I want us not to be shot on sight just because of what we can do!" She looked between Peter and Sylar for a response. It was so odd that they were still together. After all, they all knew what Sylar had done, no matter how he said he had mended his ways.

Of course, he had just saved Peter's life out there…

"Perhaps this is not the way it should be done," Peter suggested. He sounded tired.

"You can never win them over all at once," Claire snapped, "and there will be always be some moron waving a gun around. But I'm doing this for all of us, because we shouldn't have to hide. We could help the world to be a better place."

Peter looked at Sylar for support. The former serial killer had stopped poking at his chest and was shifting two bullets around in his hand instead. One of them was clean, one stained in red.

"I want to live a normal life just like anyone else," Sylar started, which Claire somehow doubted, knowing what his past was like. "But what you're doing is creating an unhealthy environment. Specials are getting beaten up every day, even people who are simply suspected of being special. The more you preach about our right to exist, the more some nutcases want to eradicate us from the face of the Earth. And as long as all of us don't agree with you, there will be damage. How much collateral damage are you prepared to carry on your shoulders? How many lives are you willing to sacrifice?"

"There won't be collateral anything," Claire said. "I want a better life for all of us –"

"We know that," Noah said patiently, trying to calm her down.

"If you did, you would try to help me, not stop me," Claire snorted. "I know specials are getting attacked. I'm among them. But that doesn't stop me from trying."

"And you're unwilling to reconsider that perhaps those who are getting hurt – people we haven't even met and who don't know you – want you to stop?" Peter challenged.

Claire was quiet. She knew that the bigger the decision and the stronger the cause, the more controversial ideas there would be. People would want you to stay quiet and go away, to choose the easy way.

She wasn't going to go away, though. She had come this far, and would continue pushing forward.

Peter seemed to read as much on her face because he gave her one of those long-suffering looks. "We'll talk about this later," he finally vowed.

"Sure," Claire agreed. She expected it wasn't going to be much different than it was now.

"Your shift starts in three hours," Sylar said to Peter very casually. "We should head back. Of course, if you don't mind being a little late, we could stop by for an ice cream or something on the way home," he ventured, which was a little odd.

"Landing from the sky, you in your bloody shirt? Another time, Romeo," Peter refused as they started to walk away.

"I'm just trying to be nice, and find something that we can do together," Sylar noted.

Peter sighed, but not the way he kept sighing at Claire these days. "After my shift, I promise we'll do something. Go eat, or something. Unless we both end up on the six o'clock news because of this," he added grimly.

To the shock of both Claire and her adoptive father, Sylar simply wrapped his arm around Peter, kissed his temple, then pulled Peter into the air with him.

"That was… odd," Noah commented, shifting his glasses.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say they're dating," Claire agreed, then shook her head. "But that can't be the case, right?"

He was as unsure about it as she was.

"Let's go," Noah finally said. The crowd had quieted down, and as they rounded the building, they could see flashing lights of police vehicles and a few ambulances that must have arrived after someone told them a man had been shot. Claire knew she would get a letter or an email later, apologizing for the whole mess here, but it was nothing new – and it certainly wasn't going to stop her from trying harder, just as she had promised her uncle.

They all deserved a normal life, should they want it.

_to be continued…_


	6. 5 The R Word

Written for **Heroes_Contest**'s Drabble Challenge 29 (Renegade).

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><p><strong>-5-<br>The R-Word**

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><p>Micah had long since noticed that Hiro had the tendency to stop by unannounced. Perhaps it had to do with the teleportation and time traveling ability; Hiro didn't seem to have any idea what 'calling ahead' meant. He just appeared suddenly.<p>

Ando was with him when Hiro appeared and both gave their usual bow, greeting Micah and everyone present, then asked what was new – which meant Hiro didn't have any pressing issues to tell him, which he would have launched directly into had there been such a thing.

"Business as usual," Micah smiled, then turned on the TV monitor on the wall. He knew that something interesting was going to be on the news: Claire was having another one of her moments in the spotlight today, and someone always reported on location.

As the reporter launched into the story, it was clear something unusual had happened:

"_Claire Bennet was supposed to speak to a crowd today in Kansas. __Instead, two men from the group called 'specials' caused a disturbance on stage which panicked the crowd and ended in a shooting. No fatalities have been reported, and any injuries we know of are minor. However, this is only one of many accidents following Ms. Bennet around, who is regarded by some as a renegade to her own cause, and many 'specials' have spoken out against her."_

Micah shook his head. He could see Peter and Sylar with Claire on the stage in some of the clips, and Sylar did seem rather pissed.

"What is a re… ren… the r-word?" Ando frowned.

"A renegade," Micah repeated the word while part of his mind focused on the laptop beside him. "It's what some of us think Claire is. That she is betraying us. A traitor…" He stopped for a bit, looking at the laptop, windows flashing open on its screen without anyone touching it. "On several discussion boards people are already commenting on the accident. They say a man in the crowd was the one to open fire, and that the specials… I think Sylar… took a hit, but didn't attack anyone."

Hiro nodded. "He has become a hero."

For now Micah agreed, and he hoped it would stay that way. Being repeatedly shot at had a way of messing with people's ideals, and the constant abuse from the surrounding world wouldn't help any of their struggles to stay on the good side.

_to be continued…_


	7. 6 Discrimination

Written for **Heroes_Contest**'s Drabble Challenge 33 (Defended).

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><p><strong>-6-<br>Discrimination**

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><p>After their little showdown in Kansas, Peter had been informed that he ought to take a break from work. They didn't say why, but Peter had a feeling his appearance in some of the biggest national news had something to do with it.<p>

Until now, he hadn't been too obvious at work, but with common knowledge of the specials spreading, and certain fears growing at an even faster rate, he knew it was only a matter of time before the truth about him came out.

He decided not to make a scene, and chose to see how this all went; he had been nothing if not a dedicated employee, so there was no reason for them to kick him out of his job just because he happened to possess powers that even in worst-case scenarios helped to save lives.

Sylar didn't agree on his treatment, though – nor did Claire, who happened to stop by for a visit the very day Peter came home from work early.

"It's not right," Sylar said.

"If it's because you're a special, that's… discrimination!" Claire declared.

Peter allowed himself to take a while before replying. "You starting to speak for special rights now?" He didn't mean to make it sound so irritated, but the whole situation irked him a bit. Not to mention these two made him feel like he had done something wrong when he left work without protestations.

"Well, if this is how they're planning on treating specials who are contributing to this world by working like normal people, then of course they should have rights!" Claire decided. "Can't they see you're doing more good than anyone else, with your powers?"

"And when the people realize what I can do, and think I'm going to end more lives than I save?" Peter muttered.

"Why would they think that?" Claire asked, frowning. "Have you given anyone a reason to doubt you?"

"Because people fear what is different, and… I don't know," Peter snapped. He didn't think it was fair, if truth be told, and the more these two rubbed it in his face, the worse he felt. "I'll give them some time to think it over. I'm sure they'll see the benefits of the situation."

Claire still looked like she was going to organize a parade to support special rights – to defend their right to fit into society. How many specials actually wanted to be defended like that, one could only guess. So far, Claire's attempts to raise awareness and understanding had made things worse rather than better.

Sylar simply chose to look at him, probably wondering how long Peter was going to sit at home, waiting.

Peter was starting to wonder the same thing and it had only been a few hours since he was sent home.

_to be continued…_


End file.
